


Blood in the Water

by lys



Category: Blood Ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lys/pseuds/lys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of rescuing Henry from Javier Mendoza, Celluci and Henry start to come to terms with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood in the Water

**Author's Note:**

> With huge thanks to elynross, faos, cereta, & gryphonrhi.
> 
> Written for greenspine

 

 

Walking down the hall, Celluci's arm slung over his shoulder, Henry was aware of many things: great weariness, the stench of fear and pain lingering on his own skin, the pulled muscles and internal injuries that had yet to heal, the sound of Vicki's footsteps fading in the distance, Celluci's heartbeat, the scent of fresh blood... "You're bleeding again," he said. "Let me see."

Without waiting for a reply, he pushed Celluci up against the wall and gently tilted his head to the side, ignoring it when Celluci tensed up under his touch. The bite wounds were jagged and torn, much rougher than his usual. Henry prided himself on discreet feeding and maintaining control; this was the antithesis of both.

The coppery scent caught him again, and he leaned in closer, mesmerized by the scarlet trail of blood, unthinkingly tightening his grip on Celluci's shoulders and holding him in place as Celluci tried to jerk away.

Still too close to the edge, Henry was intoxicated by the fear in the reflexive gasp, the heart hammering so close to Henry's own. He looked up, intending to enthrall his victim, and met Michael Celluci's wide blue eyes.

"If you're planning on finishing what you started, the bar's closed," Celluci said breathlessly.

Henry smiled; he couldn't help it. Celluci's urge to run, the need to fight, along with the knowledge that he _couldn't_ , the attempt to hold on to his dignity... it didn't take a vampire to read the signs, all part and parcel of this infuriating man who was so tied up with Vicki. He couldn't help but be impressed.

"Actually, Detective, I'm just going to stop the bleeding," Henry said. He could feel the need to take control, overpower, knew his eyes darkened with that need, but he held it back, and grinned. "Just close your eyes and think of England."

Celluci's put-upon sigh was as good as an invitation.

* * *

Mike could not believe this was happening. Here he was letting a guy who'd almost killed him, who had every reason in the world to want him dead, have another chance to finish the job. No, not a guy, a fucking _vampire_ , he reminded himself. A vampire with an extremely agile tongue that seemed determined to remove any trace of blood from Mike's neck. He couldn't help but be tense after the earlier pain Fitzroy had inflicted, but this didn't hurt. And when he felt Fitzroy's lips close over the wound, it went way beyond hurt, and way beyond England.

His grip loosened on the shotgun, and he spared a quick thought of gratitude that Vicki'd disarmed it as it clattered to the floor. The grip on his shoulders felt like the only thing holding him up. He fought the urge to bury his hands in Fitzroy's hair, to pull him in tighter. His heart raced as warmth spread throughout his body. With an effort, he managed to get his hands up and push. Fitzroy immediately stopped and looked at him, although he remained well inside Mike's personal space, almost plastered against his body, almost as if...

No.

Mike managed to find his voice. "What do you think you are, liquid band-aid?"

The grin flashed again. "Haven't you ever heard of coagulants?" At Mike's disgusted look, the impish expression was instantly replaced by that of the haughty son of the King. "Use that detective mind of yours, Celluci. How could we survive if we killed everyone we met or left our victims lying around bleeding?" Fitzroy almost spat out the words. "Don't you ever think?"

That was it. "If you'd fucking _said_ something, instead of just jerking my chain all the time, I just might have!" Using the wall as leverage, he shoved Fitzroy back and started back to the car. The door was close, and he didn't need some freak helping him. He was so angry he was hyperventilating, but he couldn't tell if he was madder at himself, or at Henry fucking Fitzroy. Stupid bastard couldn't even tell time. If it was so close to dawn, why the hell was it so fucking dark--

* * *

After grabbing the Iluminación del Sol, Vicki quickly policed the room. The dead body and makeshift torture chamber were bad enough; she didn't need her cell phone found on the scene. The light was weak, but eventually she spotted Henry's possessions in a pile, and luckily her phone and Mike's Maglite were there, too.

Then she hurried out, afraid she'd already left those two together alone too long. She took three steps into the hall and stopped dead in her tracks. Henry was sitting on the floor with Mike's legs in his lap, and Mike wasn't moving. She couldn't see Henry's expression, but his voice was calm as he called, "It's okay. He just fainted."

She started walking again, willing her sight to come into focus, but Henry's eyes were, as usual, much better. "Hey," he said, "that's my jacket. And my sweatshirt!" He sounded surprised, and she remembered that healed wounds or not, he still had a long way to go before he was back on his game.

She dropped the stuff next to him and moved to sit by Mike's head, gently touching his face to confirm Henry's diagnosis, then moving his shirt aside. The blood was ... gone, and the wounds looked hours old. She looked back at Henry, who was going through pockets, apparently elated to find his wallet, keys, and cell shoved inside. Looked at Mike's thighs resting across Henry's lap. She shook her head, deciding she didn't want to know. Whatever the hell had happened, Mike didn't seem any the worse for wear.

"So." She waited until Henry looked up. "What's all this then?" waving her hands at their tableau.

"I saw it on TV once," he said. "If the face is red, raise the head. If the face is pale--"

"Raise the tail," she chorused. "Honestly, Henry, you watch way too much TLC."

Henry glared at her as he shoved Mike's legs off his lap, then got to his feet and started putting on his sweatshirt and coat. He looked like he could manage on his own, so she turned back to Mike and started shaking his shoulder. At first there was no reaction, then he batted her hands away and struggled to sit up.

"What happened?" Mike asked.

"Henry said you fainted." Vicki kept her tone very carefully neutral. It didn't help.

"I didn't faint," he muttered petulantly.

She fought to keep her voice steady. "Oh, no, of course you didn't faint. You just passed out in a manly fashion. Can you get up?" Vicki grabbed him under the arm and started lifting, and suddenly Henry was on the other side. They got Mike to his feet, with him bitching all the way. She let Henry take his weight for a moment as she gathered up the shotgun and Maglite, then together they walked out into the night.

* * *

Mike was glad to see that the parking garage had its own elevator. He was feeling more steady after the two bottles of water and a bag of chips from his stakeout stash that Vicki'd forced down him, but he really wasn't up to climbing stairs. He didn't refuse Vicki giving him a hand out of the car, either.

He would much rather have been anywhere but back at Fitzroy's place. It was bad enough he'd almost gotten the guy killed, and Fitzroy had almost killed him in turn. Add in the kinky neck fetish and Mike would rather face all of his female relatives in a snit. But Vicki had said she wasn't letting either one of them out of her sight, and that was that. Long experience had taught him that when Vicki's voice got that clipped edge, he didn't have a hope in hell of getting a word in edgewise. Fitzroy must've quickly learned the same lesson; there wasn't a peep out of him the entire drive.

Luckily the building wasn't too far away from the church, though Fitzroy's driving made the trip seem interminable. Vicki'd even had to prod him to speed up, which seemed odd. And why the hell was he still sitting in the car? He'd been complaining about it being almost dawn before they'd even left the church. Mike looked at Vicki, and then they both bent to peer in the window. Henry was sitting with his head slumped against the steering wheel.

With a heartfelt "Oh, shit," Vicki dropped Mike's arm and raced around to open the driver's side door. Mike followed more slowly. When he got there, Henry was looking up at Vicki, his face slightly... green, but at least he was talking.

"I'm okay. I just feel strange," Henry said.

"Well, can you feel strange in the elevator? 'Cause it's getting a little late." That was Vicki. Always so sympathetic.

Fitzroy appeared to shake it off. "Of course." He got out of the car and headed towards the elevator, leaving the two of them to follow behind. The security guard was on his rounds when they hit the lobby, and they made it to the main elevator unchallenged. Mike took the opportunity to lean surreptitiously against the wall, noting with surprise that Fitzroy was doing the same on the opposite wall, arms wrapped around himself. Then they hit the 14th floor, and he was gone -- out the elevator and around the corner faster than Mike's eyes could follow.

'Oh shit' was right. He caught Vicki's eye. "You don't suppose..."

Vicki shook her head, then motioned him ahead of her. "It's got to be that _jiao gu lan_ that Mendoza was taking. Damn, Coreen didn't mention any side-effects."

"Well, I doubt any of her research covered quite this situation, Vic." Mike was starting to feel exasperated, and it didn't help when Vicki stopped and glared at him. Shit. Was anything going to go fucking right?

"There's some orange juice in the fridge. Lock the door," she said, and then took off down the hall.

* * *

The room was pitch black when Vicki stepped inside, and she wasted precious time fumbling for the lights, but it was better than slamming into the walls. She walked to the back and found Henry curled up on the floor of the master bathroom. "Close your eyes," she warned, then hit the switch. He screwed his eyes shut as the light hit him, but didn't otherwise move.

She sank down on the floor next to him and put on her best public servant voice. "Okay, so we know this guy was using a mix of some Chinese herbs and vampire blood to extend his life. Apparently it altered his blood enough that it's affecting you." She watched Henry nod, then continued. "As I see it, we've got two choices here: you can either try to sleep it off, or we can get rid of anything your body hasn't utilized and _then_ you can sleep it off."

Henry winced. "Vicki, vampires don't just 'get rid' of stuff."

"Have you ever tried?" she countered. "Come on, up we go." She grabbed Henry under the arms and started hauling him towards the toilet. He got his knees under him and helped, so she spared a hand to raise the lid and seat, then started looking around the bathroom. "Your teeth are way too sharp for me to stick my fingers down your throat, so let me see..."

"I'll do it myself," he interrupted.

* * *

After centuries of patronizing drinking establishments as easy sources of uncomplicated meals, Henry was not unaccustomed to the side effects of dissipation. He himself hadn't had that problem since he was seventeen, but it all came back in a rush: the nausea, the pain, the lack of control. At least modern plumbing was a substantial improvement over chamber pots. He could feel Vicki steadying him with one arm under his chest and her other hand supporting his head and neck, her voice a soothing monotone.

"Oh, the dulcet sounds of Saturday night in the drunk tank."

Damn that Celluci. Henry could feel Vicki twitch as she stifled a laugh, but it stayed buried as she spoke. "Funny, Mike. Now make yourself useful and get me a glass of water." Henry heard footsteps, then running water, but he let the sounds just wash over him. He started as a glass touched his lips. The water was cool and he swallowed gratefully, only to have it pulled away. He opened his eyes and met Vicki's as she peered at him. "Just rinse your mouth out. You can drink later, okay?" Henry nodded and reached for the glass, careful not to swallow this time. He spat out water and blood. It still tasted like fresh blood to him, but he suddenly wanted it gone. He didn't want anything of that bastard touching him ever again.

As his hand started shaking, he felt another hand close over his on the glass. Then there was an arm around his shoulders, easing him back against a large chest. It had to be Celluci's, but the touch was gentle, and Henry was too tired to resist. The glass was at his lips again, and he drank until it was empty. Then he started laughing. He could feel both of them freeze up, then Vicki asked, "Are you okay? What's funny?"

"Just remembering," he said. It felt like he was forcing the words out. "... Surrey."

"Surrey. You mean Henry Howard, your brother-in-law?" Vicki asked. "Did you two get plastered together?"

"My _brother_ ," Henry insisted. He tried to focus on her, but couldn't quite manage it. He could feel the sun pressing him down into immobility. "... tried to save him..." There was more, but it was claimed by the day.

* * *

Mike tightened his grip as Fitzroy went limp against him, holding him in place, then looked over at Vicki. "Please tell me this wasn't what you had in mind when you decided to minor in History."

Vicki swatted him as she got up. "Oh, just drink your orange juice. I'm going to check the blinds and check in with Coreen."

Fitzroy was a deadweight, so Mike lowered him to the floor, then maneuvered himself back on his feet. He was a little dizzy, but not too bad. He flushed the toilet, plopped the lid down and himself down on it, and obediently finished off the can of juice. The stuff tasted like crap, but at least it was cold. His eyes roamed around the bathroom, but there wasn't that much to see, so he ended up looking back at the vampire lying helpless at his feet. _I could kill him right now_ , he realized, but he chased the thought away. They'd gone too far past that. Fitzroy might kill, but he wasn't a killer, and he wasn't a danger to Vicki. Well, provided Mike didn't sell him down the river to be starved and tortured again.

Needing a distraction, he got up and wandered back out into the master bedroom. And it was definitely a bedroom. It looked like something out of the pages of a bodice ripper. If he hadn't known better, he'd think it was the spread of some high-priced gigolo. Hell, maybe it was; comic books couldn't pay all that well, could they? Suddenly deciding this was not the distraction he needed, he went back inside the master bath.

Fitzroy was lying where he'd left him. Unable to stifle his curiosity, Mike leaned down and felt for a pulse. There it was, and again. Hmm... that was weird. "Hey, Vic?" he called. Mike could've sworn Vicki'd said Fitzroy's heart hardly beat when he was, what... Unconscious? Dead? He checked his watch and counted.

* * *

"What do you need?" Vicki walked in the bathroom, arms full of towels and Blood Price merchandise clothing.

Mike was sitting on the floor next to Henry, his fingers on his neck. "I think he's awake. Or something. Look at his eyes."

"What are you talking about?" Vicki crouched down next to Mike. Okay, so his eyelids were fluttering. Just because he didn't do that the last time didn't mean it wasn't normal, right? She reached over and pried open one of Henry's eyelids, then jumped back in shock as his eye met hers. "Shit!" She looked at Mike. "Did you see that? He shouldn't be able to focus on me. He was basically, well, _dormant_ the last time. His pulse was seven beats a minute, and his pupils were fixed."

"Well, they're sure as hell not fixed now, and I just got twenty-four beats per minute," Mike replied. "Did you talk to Coreen again?"

"All Coreen said was that this stuff is supposed to be good for your heart and blood pressure. She and Dr. Sagara both went home to get some sleep, so they're not going to be any help."

"Okay," Mike said. "Let's think this through. He drank shit that makes your heart stronger, and now his heart is going about three times as fast as normal."

"So if it's the sun that makes him shut down," Vicki continued, "and the slow heart rate is tied in to that, then maybe the drug is keeping his heart beating too fast to go under."

"So he's awake and basically paralyzed?" Mike asked. "That's gotta suck."

Vicki sat back and started cursing under her breath. Then she put her hands on Henry's cheek and turned his face toward her. She _hated_ this touchy-feely crap. "Henry? If you can hear me, just try to relax. We're just going to get you cleaned up and put to bed, and one of us will be with you all the time, okay?"

She looked up at Mike's squawk and narrowed her eyes at him, "You have a problem with that?"

* * *

Oh yeah, I've got problems with this, Mike thought to himself as the warm water pounded on his back. Showering with Vicki was one thing. If it were just the two of them, and he didn't feel like something the cat dragged in, and she wasn't pissed off at him, it would probably have evolved into great sex. Hell, even if she was pissed off -- some of their best nights had followed a screaming fight. But sitting on the floor of an obscenely big shower balancing a naked, slippery Fitzroy against his own bare chest while Vicki covered all three of them with shampoo and body soap? That was way out of his comfort zone.

Fitzroy was utterly unresponsive, which was the only thing that made it bearable. And really, there wasn't anything enticing about the situation at all. But he was very grateful that the floor was cold, and that Vicki kept her mouth shut. That didn't mean she wasn't capable of thinking so loudly he could hear it five klicks away... which was why he was in his underwear holding a semi-dead guy in the first place.

"Are we done?" he asked petulantly. "I smell like a fucking forest."

"But at least it's an _expensive_ forest," she pointed out. Nevertheless, she stood up and detached one of the shower heads from its base, rinsing herself off first, then turning it on the two of them. Catching a faceful of water, then a faceful of Fitzroy's hair as he ducked didn't improve Mike's mood any. In a shower this big, you'd think there would be enough room for her to aim better. Vicki turned off the water, pulled Fitzroy away from him, and handed him a towel. He wiped off the worst of the water, then helped Vicki wrestle the limp form out of the shower and onto the bathmat. He got to his feet, closing his eyes through the wave of dizziness that followed, then started digging through the pile of clothes Vicki had left on the sink.

"Comic book T-shirts and _boxers_?" He looked over at Vicki, who was now towel-drying her hair.

"What?" she demanded. "They're clean and dry and he gets them free from the distributor."

Mike couldn't help laughing, "But it's like wearing underroos!"

Vicki threw the towel at his head. "That's gotta be a Y-chromosome thing. Now hurry up and give me a hand."

Still smirking, Mike tossed a set at Vicki, made sure Fitzroy's eyes were still closed, then stripped off his wet clothes and pulled on the dry ones. They were a little loose in the waist, but better than nothing. He sat back down on the floor and started dealing with Fitzroy, silently thanking all the times that he'd babysat Dylan. Together he and Vicki got Fitzroy's limp body decently clothed, then sat back and stared at one another. "So now what?"

"Now I get the bed straightened out while you drink some more water."

"C'mon, Vic, if I drink any more water, I'm gonna burst." Mike staggered to his feet again and headed for the door, only to have Vicki plant her hand in the center of his chest. "What?"

"I said we weren't leaving him alone, and I meant it. When he first died? They buried him, Mike, and it took the vampire that turned him three days to find him and dig him up. So stay put."

 _Three days? Jeez._ He wouldn't leave his worst enemy alone after that, and it was pretty clear Fitzroy was no longer an enemy. The jury was still out on what he _was_ , but that was best ignored for now. "Fine," he said, but Vicki was already out the door.

* * *

Leaving Mike to keep an eye on Henry -- and in what universe was that a good idea? -- Vicki walked back into the bedroom. She was still a little worried about both of them. Mike had regained some of his color, but he still didn't look steady on his feet. And who knew what kind of shape Henry would be in come sundown? Oh, well, no use borrowing more trouble.

She pulled down the bedcovers, covered the pillows with extra towels, and cranked the heat up. The lights were so dim that she could barely see, but at least there wasn't anything to trip over.

Walking back to the bathroom, she found Mike with his bare feet snugged up against Henry's thigh. Before she could ask, Mike said, "He started doing that eye thing again, and there was no way I was getting back down on the floor."

She looked closer at Henry. "He's not doing it now."

"He stopped soon after I touched him," Mike replied.

Oh, great. Not only could they not leave him alone, they had to stay in contact with him the whole time? She really did not sign up for this job. With an exasperated sigh, she reached down to grab Henry's arms and started dragging him into the bedroom. Mike wasn't much help, but they eventually got Henry sprawled out in the middle of the bed. Without a word of complaint, Mike flopped out next to him, and was out almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

She pulled the covers up over them both, then climbed up on the bed on the other side of Henry. She let her fingers rest upon his neck as she checked his pulse again. "There, see?" she said softly, "it's down to twenty. It's slowing down. You just need to relax, and everything will be back to normal in no time."

There was a loud snore from Mike, and she grinned. "See? Some things are back to normal already."

* * *

Henry woke, disoriented by the sound of two separate heartbeats besides his own. He recognized Vicki's immediately. She was lying behind him, with one arm curled over his side. But the other heartbeat was... Why was he lying on Michael Celluci?

He opened his eyes and gently lifted his head, trying not to wake either one of them. His bedroom was trashed. He could smell poutine, Chinese food, and coffee, and there were newspapers and take-away food cartons scattered all over the foot of the bed.

He froze as the memories suddenly washed over him.

The pain, that thing in his chest, attacking Vicki, the blood pouring into him, and then the terror of being trapped in his own body. He said a prayer of thankfulness that Vicki had recognized it, and that they hadn't left him alone. The sounds and the constant touching were the only thing that had kept him sane until he finally slipped under.

He looked down at Celluci, wondering why the hell he had stayed. The wounds on his neck looked much better, and Vicki had been smart enough to leave them open to the air. He could've gone home at any time during the long day. Had she guilted him into it? Or was it his own guilt for listening to Mendoza in the first place?

Celluci's breathing altered, and then his eyes opened. Those bright blue eyes that refused to show fear. Henry remembered what he'd told Vicki after they'd defeated Astaroth: _You gave me your blood. You're a part of me now._ Celluci might not like it, but he was Henry's now, too.

As if sensing his thoughts, Celluci's eyes narrowed, and Henry felt a grin split his face at the sight. He lay his head back down again, basking in the pressing warmth of bodies. He could wait to feed. This was to be cherished.

* * *

 


End file.
